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12-25-2014, 09:33 AM
The last time that she had stepped foot upon the Floating Island, it had been for a celebration. The party, the dance, to celebrate Lady Moon and the Basin's thriving unity had been a truly jovial affair... Except it had ended crudely, dangerously, bringing an omen of death and terror of the likes that Rhiannon hadn't seen in a long, long time. It had been terrible, ugly, and had reminded the Brindled Devil of a time when wraiths and demons walked the earth. Now, however, it was obvious that things were different... But like the last time she had strut upon this beautiful isle, there was some means of celebration. Before her very eyes, a group of horned, hornless, and winged creatures stood and mingled. Icy-silver and molten-gold eyes narrowed at a few of them with distaste, but sucking in a deep breath, Rhiannon plastered a smile upon her dark lips as she sashayed into the crowd. Now... What, exactly, was going on? Curiosity killed the cat. The saying rang in her ears, burning her eardrums, but the desire to know simply overrode any other feelings of caution or weariness. Individuals from different herds had come, their scents foreign and strange, and the Weaver milled close to the back of the group, head held high and proud, a perfect vision of eloquence to be expected from the Basin... But the moment that her eyes spotted the conifer tree, accompanied with the turtle nestled beneath it, the brindled mare's brows rose with even more curiosity. The curvaceous mare ventured closer, eyeing those that stood about the tree and the turtle, oculars flicking about but focusing on the tree. It was beautiful... Maybe she could weave tapestries upon the cone-trees in the Basin? Surely that would look lovely? "Huh... Interesting." Was what she said, her smile upturning in a simple, genuine way. How very interesting indeed... |
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